


Prove me wrong

by footlooseandfancyfree



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Hale Fire, Rating May Change, Trust Issues, Young Derek, Young Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footlooseandfancyfree/pseuds/footlooseandfancyfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not a secret that Peter doesn’t like strangers. Well, more specifically human strangers. He never has. He has always been suspicious of them, and he is sure that’s something that will never change. Laura teasingly calls him a complete, socially inept jerk, but the thing is she is not wrong. Sure, he socializes with humans, when it suits him, but he never truly bonds with anyone, and with good reason.</p><p>Humans are idiots at best, and savages at worst.</p><p>ON TEMPORARY HIATUS. UNTIL 'THE VEDMAK AND THE WEREWOLF' IS FINISHED. DON'T WORRY I WILL CONTINUE THIS STORY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few facts upfront:
> 
> Stiles and her father just moved to Beacon Hills. Peter and Laura are both seniors. Derek and Stiles are sophomores. Cora is in secondary school. The Hale pack is smaller than in the canon, at least for now. Everything else will be explained in the story.

_‘I’m very straightforward._

_If I’m wrong, prove me wrong and I’ll change my mind._

_If not, I’ll stand by my belief.’_

_Mark Gaynier_

 

It’s early in the afternoon.

Sunlight illuminates the living room, warm rays falling on the couch where Peter is lazing.

His eyes are closed, but he is not asleep. He is just enjoying the peace and quiet.

Talia and his brother-in-law are still both at work, Laura is at school, Cora has a play date downtown and Derek has basketball practice – which means for once Peter has the house all to himself.

Well, at least for the next two or three hours.

It’s nice, really nice, and totally worth skipping his last class for. Sure, Talia is probably going to rip him a new one when she finds out – and she will, because she always does – but still, it’s totally worth the trouble. And it’s not like he can’t afford it. His grades are fine and his attendance record is (almost) perfect. Sure, on rare occasions, he’d miss a day, but Talia always covers for him, as she does with all of her other kids. Not that he considers himself one of her kids.

Don’t get him wrong. He loves his family, but sometimes the house just gets too loud, too hectic for him. There is always someone running up and down the stairs, squealing, laughing and shouting. Especially Laura and Cora are constantly driving him up the wall with their arguing. They may be eight years apart in age, but that doesn’t seem to matter. They still bicker like typical sisters, fighting over clothes, makeup, and boys.

Normally, when it gets too much for him, Peter just leaves the house for an hour or two, sitting by the lake, reading or listening to music, but always returning to the nuthouse that is his home.

Because despite everything, he adores his family, so much so that he would do anything in order to protect them. He would kill for them without blinking an eye, without feeling even the slightest bit of regret, which is probably why he didn’t become the Alpha after their father had died. Well that and the fact that he was way too young at the time.

He doesn’t begrudge his sister for inheriting the mantle, though. Not one bit. She is a great Alpha. She possesses all the character traits needed to handle the responsibility of pack leader, some of which Peter clearly lacks … like patience, compassion or impartiality.

But still, sometimes he wonders what it would be like to receive that extra spark of power, to be faster, stronger …

The sound of a car coming up the road suddenly pulls him out of the reverie. It’s a family sound, so Peter isn’t worried, just irritated and annoyed.

Derek is coming home way too early.

Maybe practice was cut short, for whatever reason, who knows. Coach Finstock isn’t exactly what you would call a role model. More often than not he reeks of alcohol. The stench is subtle enough for a human to miss it, but it’s pungent to a werewolf’s sensitive sense of smell. But still, even if practice was cancelled, Derek shouldn’t be back yet. He was supposed to wait for Laura to finish her detention, which wouldn’t end until six. And yes, the fact that his niece was in detention for a change and not him, makes him smile, but it lasts only for a few moments.

His smile completely vanishes when Derek pulls into the driveway.

He is not alone. It’s easy to pick up the second heartbeat. It’s fast, almost erratic, but more importantly it’s one Peter is completely unfamiliar with. He lets out a low, menacing growl, knowing full well that Derek can hear him.

It’s not a secret that Peter doesn’t like strangers. Well, more specifically _human_ strangers. He never has. He has always been suspicious of them, and he is sure that’s something that will never change. Laura teasingly calls him a complete, socially inept jerk, but the thing is she is not wrong. Sure, he socializes with humans, when it suits him, but he never truly bonds with anyone, and with good reason.

Humans are idiots at best, and savages at worst.

He should know. Both of his parents were killed by humans, along with his older brother, James.

Sure, there aren’t a lot of humans who know about the supernatural world, just a handful. And maybe not all of them pose a threat, but there are those who made it their sole propose in life to hunt down and kill his kind, indiscriminately and without remorse. Sure, physically speaking, they are no match for a werewolf, let alone a whole pack of them, but they are very sneaky and they possess weapons, some of which are very deadly.

But more importantly they can easily hide among their own kind, which means in theory _every_ human is a potential threat.

Including this one.

 

\+ + +

 

“Come on,” Derek prompts, sounding calm and collected, almost cheery.

Peter grinds his teeth, furious that his nephew is inviting a stranger into their den. A wolf’s den is sacred. Sure, everyone once in a while a human would come here, but never uninvited. Usually, Peter has time to prepare himself, sometimes days in advance, but not today.

He is up on his feet and in the foyer in a blink of an eye. A part of him wants to tear open the door and demand that they leave, both his nephew and his companion, but he doesn’t act on it. It isn’t easy to fight the impulse, but he manages, just barely though. He stays there, leaning against the banister with his arm crossed, waiting and listening.

Derek’s human friend doesn’t say anything, just follows Derek’s instruction and gets out of the car. Peter can only hear shuffling footsteps and a few moments later the front door opens, revealing his nephew and a lanky … _girl_.

The sight throws Peter for a second, but he catches himself quickly. Derek has never brought a girl over, one of his male classmates, sure, but never a girl. Ever. And going by the posters in his room, not to mention his browser history, this girl isn’t exactly Derek’s type. Not that he’s into guys, he just prefers a different kind of female.

“Hey, Peter, how was your day?” Derek greets him with a wide smile, like nothing is wrong.

“Great, until now.” Peter growls, looking over his shoulder to glare at his friend.

She is tall for a girl, at least 5’10. Her brown hair is cut short and styled casually. Except for a little mascara, she is not wearing any make-up, which is something Peter actually prefers. Nothing is a bigger turn-off for him than a girl who covers up her skin with layers and layers of make-up. And in her case it would be really a shame. Her pale skin is perfect, no blemishes whatsoever, unless you’d count the numerous moles dotted over her face and her bare neck. As far as he is concerned they only accentuate her natural beauty, especially that bigger one right next to her mouth …

Peter has to mentally shake himself. This is so not the time, or the place, or even the right person.

The girl holds his gaze, her amber eyes staring right back into his blue ones. Hers are slightly puffy, like she hasn’t slept much in the past few days, or she has been crying recently. Whatever. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long before her heartbeat kicks up another notch and her breath hitches. Blushing, she ducks his head. It almost looks like she wants to hide behind Derek, which is impossible, because she is actually a few inches taller than his nephew.

Peter smirks, reveling in the scent coming from her. It’s a heady mixture of anxiety, fear and something that almost smells like … arousal. ‘Interesting.’

He can’t be sure whether or not Derek is able to pick up the last one, but he can clearly sense his friend’s distress. After shooting Peter a dark, disapproving look, he turns around and hands his bag to his friend. She takes it without question.

“Why don’t you go upstairs? My room is the second one on the left. I will be right there with you.” Derek says, his voice low and gentle like he's talking to a scared animal. All things considered, it’s a pretty accurate comparison. After all, she is the sheep among wolves.

The girl hesitates for a second, and then shrugs. “Okay.”

It’s easy to tell that she doesn’t want to go upstairs alone, but she also doesn’t want to remain down here, with Peter. She may only be a human, but even she can sense the tension in the room.

Peter only waits for the other teen to make it to the landing, before he grabs Derek’s shirt and hauls him into the kitchen.

“What are you thinking? Bringing a human here?”

“I talked to Mom, she said it was okay,” Derek shoots back. “And I really doubt she means us any harm. She is the Sheriff’s daughter, for Christ’s sake.”

“The newly appointed Sheriff, you mean, a man we know practically nothing about.” Peter argues.

“Mom and Dad have met him, numerous times. They think he is a great, honorable man.” Derek points out, adding with a sigh, “You really have to stop being so paranoid.”

Peter doesn’t bother to dignify that last statement with a retort, only flashes his eyes. Derek just rolls his eyes and pushes past him to get to the fridge. That’s when Peter notices something else.

“Why do you smell like her?”

Derek’s back stiffens, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “None of your business.” He mumbles.

“I beg to differ.” Peter growls, taking another whiff. “Oh my god, you practically reek of her. What did you do?”

Derek whirls around, his hands tightening around the soda cans he just retrieved. “I hugged her, okay?”

“Why?”

Derek falls silent for a minute. Peter can practically see the wheels turning in his head, can sense his inner struggle. Clearly, Derek doesn’t want to answer the question, but he also knows Peter won’t let him leave without an explanation, a real one, since he will be able to catch him in a lie.

Heaving a sigh, he finally comes clean. “I found her in the library after my last class. She was having a panic attack and … I helped her calm down.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.” Peter comments. It’s not a compliment, and they both know it. “So, is she your girlfriend now?”

“No, you asshole.” Derek snarls, sounding appalled, and not because she isn’t his type, but because he is mad. “Her mother just died.”

Peter flinches like he has been slapped, but he recovers quickly. “Oh … well … that sucks.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say? You know damn well how it feels like to lose a mother and all you have to say is ‘That sucks.’?” Derek scowls, disappointment and anger written all over his face. It’s a miracle he hasn’t wolfed out yet. Out of all of them he is the one with the least control. Even Cora who is six years younger has better restraint. “You know what? **_You_** suck. Just do us a favor and leave us alone. Stiles doesn’t need any of your usual shit.”

“What sorta name is Stiles?” Peter wonders out loud, completely ignoring the rest of Derek’s rant.

“Really, I mean it. Stay away from her.” Derek warns. “Or I’m calling Mom.”

As threats go, that’s pretty much the only one that has any effect on Peter. He might not be afraid to face his sister, but he certainly doesn’t want to antagonize his Alpha. Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Peter takes another step back. Seemingly pleased by Peter’s reaction, Derek grabs a bag of chips from the cupboard and leaves the kitchen without another word.

Of course, Peter has no intention of leaving them alone in the house. Sure, he doesn’t follow them upstairs, but then again he doesn’t need to. He can easily listen in on them from down here … which he does, without feeling even the slightest bit of guilt.


	2. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I considered switching back and forth between Peter’s and Stiles’ POV, but then I decided to let Peter tell the story. He might be not the most reliable narrator, but he is fun to write.
> 
> As requested here is the age list of the Hales:  
> Talia/her husband 36  
> Peter 18  
> Cora 10  
> Laura 18  
> Derek/Stiles 16

_‘If you’re lucky enough to get a second chance, don’t waste it.’_

_Unknown Author_

 

Unfortunately, Peter doesn’t learn much about the human girl.

Not even her real name.

Seriously, Stiles can’t be her given name. It has to be a nickname, and a very weird one at that. Weird, but certainly unique.

Of course, they talk, but Derek doesn’t pry. Whether because he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable – well more uncomfortable than she already is – or because he knows Peter is listening in on them, is unclear. Peter thinks it’s the latter. Or rather he hopes that’s the reason behind Derek reluctance to press for information.

A part of him respects his nephew’s slow and gentle approach. The death of her mother is clearly still a sore subject for Stiles. And he gets it. He does. Losing a loved one is hard. Losing a pack member is even worse. It’s like losing a limp. You never fully recover.

And maybe this is the right way, making the girl feel more at ease before asking awkward questions. Although, Peter doubts that’s Derek’s agenda. He isn’t clever or sneaky enough to think like that. Peter is, but not Derek. When it comes to things like this, dealing with strangers, he is way too trusting.

Of course, Peter tried to teach him how to be more careful, how to pay attention to the tiniest details, how to ask questions without arousing suspicion, but it quickly turned out to be a complete waste of time and efforts. Maybe that’s why he always goes after his nephew on the full moon, roughing him up, just a little, not enough to cause him any serious harm. Unfortunately Talia always puts an end to it before he can make his point.

It’s an ongoing issue between him and his sister. Time and time again, she tries to convince him that Derek isn’t wired the same way, that he is different, more … _delicate_ than the rest of them. And she certainly has a point. At the age of sixteen he still has trouble controlling his shift, and that’s not normal, especially for a born wolf.

Be that as it may, as far as he is concerned Derek is just an idiot.

An idiot who invites a stranger into their house, without even considering the repercussions, and what’s even worse, one he is already starting to form a bond with. Sure, from the sounds of it, and given his earlier reaction, he just wants to be her friend. No romantic inclination whatsoever, or at least not yet, but still. It’s just stupid and reckless.

Nevertheless … there are a few things Peter does learn about Stiles.

Apparently, she moved here from Chicago. He is mildly surprised by that fact, because you can’t tell by her accent. It does explain her pale complexion, though, or at least to some extent.

When Derek asks her if she likes the Chicago Bulls, she kinda disappoints him when she says no. As it turns out, she isn’t a fan of any of the local sports teams. Not the Bears, the White Sox, the Cubs or the Blackhawks. Her dad has an unhealthy obsession with the White Socks, never missing a game, just like Derek’s father. It’s probably just a coincidence.

Probably.

Peter has to admit that he is a bit impressed by the fact that she has been playing lacrosse at her old school, especially when he hears that she has been a part of the boys’ team. Sure, she is tall for a girl, and going by her long legs she can probably move pretty fast, but she doesn’t look like she could take a punch without getting hurt, or at the very least getting bruised. Unlike his kind she would need days to heal, longer if she’s broke her bones. Completely disregarding that fact Derek immediately suggests that she should try out for the Cyclones, their High School's lacrosse team. Stiles seems to be less than enthusiastic about the idea, but tells him that she will give it some thought.

A part of Peter hopes she will give it a shot. He is curious about her skills on the field. But more importantly, seeing someone fight can tell a lot about that person. And so can the way how they are dealing with injury and pain.

Derek and Stiles spend the next hour or so doing their homework in complete silence. Well, more or less. Every now and then they compare notes and share their findings, Stiles being more helpful in that department than Derek. Peter smirks at that. Apparently, she is very smart, something that both appeals to him and his wolf. He tries not to give that too much thought, though.

It’s around five thirty when Stiles literally demands that Derek drives her back to the school. He complies without complaint. Sure, he has to go back anyway to pick up his sister, but still, allowing the human to talk to him like that …

Peter can feel his wolf claw its way closer to the surface. It shouldn’t happen. The girl hasn’t been insulting _his_ wolf, but Derek’s. Maybe he just reacts out of solidarity, standing up for his weaker pack member, but Peter doubts that’s the case. Ever since he sensed Stiles’ presence his wolf has been on edge, getting more agitated by the minute.

Of course, Peter could feel it, but he decided to ignore it, pulling the leash tight. Next to his sister, he has the most control. Having an anchor helps, even if it’s a morbid one. But who can fault him, when it works like a charm?

But apparently the same rules don’t apply today.

He can feel the change taking over, his mouth filling with fangs, his claws digging into the flesh of his palms … he is losing it, and fast. He needs to leave, _right_ now, before either one of them makes it downstairs and he does something he will most certainly regret.

Without wasting another second, Peter makes his escape out the backdoor, running straight into the woods.

 

\+ + +

 

Needless to say, family dinner that evening isn’t as much fun as it usually is.

Well, that’s quite the understatement.

It’s a nightmare.

Or at least it’s a nightmare for Peter. Everyone else seems to enjoy him or herself immensely.

Even though she only spent two hours in the house, not to mention most of the time upstairs hiding in Derek’s room, Stiles’ scent is still lingering, clinging to the fabrics and the furniture like she belongs here.

Which she doesn’t.

She is and always will be an intruder. Well, at least as far as Peter is concerned.

Granted, her scent isn’t exactly _bad_ , just irritatingly annoying. Actually, he kinda likes the way she smells. Not perversely sweet or overly heady like most human women. In fact, he can’t detect any trace of perfume, just a hint of odorless deodorant.

She smells pure, in every sense of the word, kinda reminding him of the way the air smells right after it starts to rain.

She smells like …

Oh no.

No. No. No. He is not going to go _there_. Ever.

Naturally, everyone picks up the scent of the human girl right away, although only Cora and Michael, his brother-in-law, are the ones unprepared for it. But just like the rest of his family they don’t seem to mind. Go figure!

Laura and Cora keep pestering Derek with endless questions. He answers some of them, but not all. Eventually, Talia puts her foot down.

“Cut it out, you two. If you want to get to know her, maybe you should try and talk to her at school.” She says, addressing Laura. Before Cora can complain that she doesn’t have the same option, she amends, “Or you could simply invite her over again.”

“I’m not sure it will work. Peter didn’t exactly make her feel welcome.” Derek points out, reaching for the bowl of mash potatoes, refilling his plate.

“Why am I not surprised?” Laura comments, dryly.

“Sorry, if I’m the only one thinking we should be more careful.” Peter bites out, letting his eyes wander around the table, glaring at every member of his family, one at a time.

Derek just rolls his eyes, Cora shrugs and Laura sticks her tongue out. Talia heaves a heavy sigh, shaking her head.

“How about we invite both her and the Sheriff over on the weekend?” Michael proposes. He rarely ever plays mediator, almost always lets his wife handle these kinds of situations.

“Buttering up the Sheriff so he might overlook any future indiscretions?” Laura smirks.

“Hardly, young lady.” Her father admonishes, not really meaning it though. Sure, they all, with the exception of Cora, of course, like to drive fast, but he is the one who gets the most tickets for speeding.

“We could invite Alan as well.” Talia contributes. “He is a great judge of character.”

“And a pain in the ass.” Peter adds, earning himself a chuckle from Laura and a warning growl from his Alpha. His wolf cowers in submission, but he doesn’t, not completely anyway.

Deaton might be bond to the Hale pack until his dying breath, therefore posing no threat, but it doesn’t mean that the emissary is pleasant company. Usually only Talia deals with him, being the Alpha and all that, but sometimes they all would meet at Deaton’s place of work to discuss things. It rarely happens these days, though. Life in Beacon Hills has been quiet for quite some time, even though the town is literally a beacon, a beacon for the supernatural. But as they say, peace and quiet can’t last forever. With the exception of Derek, they all are vigilant in their own way, but Peter is probably the only one constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sure, it’s not the healthiest way to go through life, but then again, better be safe than sorry, right?

Probably sensing the growing tension in the air, Michael hurries to put an end to the matter. “All in favor say aye.”

Five people raise their right arm, announcing their agreement.

“Well, as always, the ayes have it.” Talia declares, effectively closing the subject, well, making sure it’s no longer up for discussion. Sometimes democracy really sucks. “And you, my dear brother, are going to personally invite the girl.”

Great, just great.

“Fine,” Peter grumbles, shrugging.

“Really, Mom? He will only scare her away for good.” Derek whines like a petulant child. Peter wants to slap him, but doesn’t act on his impulse.

“I’m sure he knows better than to disappoint me.” Talia gives her son a reassuring smile, patting his hand for good measure, not even bothering to glare at Peter. She knows he won’t dare to defy her. And she is right, but it doesn’t mean that he won’t screw up the plan, by accident.

As always, Laura seems to be able to read his thoughts. “I’ll keep on eye him; make sure he does what he is supposed to do and not what he wants to do.”

“Whatever.” Peter grumbles, pushing his chair away from the table, getting on his feet. “I’m going for a run.”

Nobody stops him.

For the second time this day, he wears himself out by running through the woods.

Something tells him this is going to become a new habit for him.

 

\+ + +

 

Finding Stiles the next day turns out to be quite the challenge.

It’s weird, but true.

For one, they don’t have the same classes. And secondly, their lockers are not in the same hallway. Sure, Peter can easily sniff her out among the other humans since he is already so familiar with her scent. He still doesn’t like it, but given the situation it certainly comes in handy right now.

In theory.

Of course, they cross each other’s path a couple of times. After all, Beacon Hill High isn’t that big. But whenever he walks past her, she is not alone. There are always people nearby. Stiles doesn’t really interact with them, and vice versa, which doesn‘t come as much of a surprise. She is still the new girl, and not exactly popular. Everyone knows by now that she is the Sheriff’s daughter. Especially the boys seem adamant to steer clear of her. Not because they are afraid to incur the Sheriff’s wrath by courting his only daughter. No, as far as Peter can tell no one seems to be interested in her like that. They just don’t want to take any chances, by upsetting her in any way, shape or form. The girls may have similar reasons. Or not.

It’s weird, though. If he didn’t know it any better, Peter would say Stiles is doing it on purpose, surrounding herself with people in order to avoid talking to him.

He has to wait until lunch to make his move. Not that he truly cares. If it were up to him, he would have waited another day, but Laura keeps pushing him, again and again, making sure he doesn’t back out.

Peter doesn’t find Stiles in the cafeteria, but in the yard, sitting alone at one of the wooden tables. He saunters over, sliding onto the bench across from her. He can feel Laura’s eyes on him, even from all the way across the yard. He didn’t ask her to tag along, but a part of him is glad that she is just within earshot.

At first, the girl doesn’t show any sign that she’s aware his presence, which makes sense. She has her nose stuck in a book, while listening to music, not loud enough to damage her hearing, but loud enough to tune out most ambient noises. Stiles finally reacts when he reaches over and steals one of her fries. She tries to slap his hand away, in a futile attempt to stop him. Of course she misses the target, if only just.

“Yummy,” Peter hums, grinning at her.

“Get your own.” She snaps. Actually, it almost sounds like a growl. At least his wolf interprets it as such.

“Don’t be like that. Sharing means caring.”

“Yeah right.” She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Spadaj!”

“Excuse me?”

“It means ‘Get lost.’.” She clarifies, her eyes narrowing further. He doesn’t need his supernatural senses to tell that she is angry. It’s pretty much written all over her face.

“I can’t.” He says, smirking wider. It’s fun riling her up. “What are you doing out here anyways?”

“What does it look like? I’m trying to study.”

“How boring.”

“What do want, Peter?” She groans, putting down her book and removing her ear pods.

“You remember my name, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Stiles retorts, hotly. “I just have a good memory.”

He doesn’t even sense her come closer, too engrossed in their little banter, but suddenly Laura is there, standing right beside him.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I just couldn’t watch this any longer. Peter is supposed to invite you and your father over to our house, not pissing you off.” His niece says, holding out her hand. “I’m Laura, by the way. Derek’s sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That went well ...


	3. Third time is the charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought long and hard about how to label Peter’s rank in the pack. Since he is still very young, and doesn’t exactly have the qualities needed for the position as Second In Command, and I didn’t want to ‘steal’ anything from other writers (like Left Hand), I went with Keeper. What that title entails will be explained in the story.

_‘Sometimes, you get things right the first time._

_Others, the second._

_But the third time, they say, is the charm.’_

_Sarah Dessen_

 

“I said stir carefully not turn the salad into a pulp.” Talia chides.

“Then maybe you should have asked someone else to help you.” Peter retorts, yet slowing down his movements considerably. Potato salad should be chunky, not mushy.

“Derek is getting more ice. Laura is in the woods with Cora, collecting firewood. And Michael is preparing the grill. Who else is there?”

“I know.” Peter grumbles under his breath. He was there when she assigned the tasks. He would have gladly gone with one of his nieces, but his sister probably knew that he wouldn’t have returned. At least not until the guests were gone. Of course, Talia knows that he isn’t the best helper in the kitchen, but this way she can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t bolt … prematurely.

“Please tell me, you are not going to be like this the entire time Sheriff Stilinski and his daughter are going to be here.” Talia groans, well more like implores.

“You know I can’t do that.” He answers honestly. Lying to her would be pointless.

“If it helps, I could make it into an order.” She offers, flashing her red eyes at him.

“But you won’t.” He smirks, practically daring Talia to say the words.

It’s dumb, reckless even, to challenge his Alpha. Sure, she could easily tell him to behave like a good little puppy, but he knows she wouldn’t use her power for something as trivial as this. She may be the leader of his pack, and rightfully so, but she is also his sister. Family bonds often, but not always, trump pack dynamics, a fact he is glad about, especially now, which is why he decides to throw her a bone.

No pun intended.

“I’ll try my best to be civil, but that’s all I can promise.”

“That’s all I ask.” Talia replies evenly, but her emotions betray her. She is relieved that he has given in so quickly, and so is her husband, who is outside on the patio, out of sight but not out of earshot. “I know you mean well, Peter. We all know that. And maybe some of us aren’t showing their appreciation for what you do in the way you expect them to, but it doesn’t change the facts. Protecting the pack has always been your main concern, and even though that should be my responsibility, I’m glad that I can always count on you to pick up the slack.”

That’s putting it lightly.

Peter may not be officially the Keeper, but they all know that’s his role in their pack.

It’s not an easy job.

Quite the opposite.

More often than not, it puts him on the sidelines, always busy observing everything, picking up clues the others would easily dismiss, analyzing the slightest change in people’s behavior or their scents. It doesn’t make him an outsider. He is still pack, and as far as he is concerned just as vital as the Alpha, but it still makes him the odd man out. Granted, sometimes he feels a bit lonely, but for the most part Peter has come to term with it. ‘We all have our crosses to bear.’

“But you really have to stop treating everyone as a potential threat.” Talia continues with a sigh. “Most people are actually pretty nice, if you give them a chance. And yes I know Derek is a bit naïve when it comes to trusting strangers, but he is a werewolf just like you. He can tell when people are lying.”

Sure, his sister has a point.

At times Peter can get a bit (read: a lot) carried away, seeing danger where there is absolutely none, but he can’t help himself. That’s who he is, always thinking ten moves ahead. That’s why no one is able to beat him at chess. And since pretty much all werewolves are sore losers, his pack has given up playing with him a long time ago, well, except for his brother-in-law. Michael is actually a pretty decent player, just no match for Peter. Weirdly enough, Talia’s husband doesn’t seem to mind losing each and every time. In fact, he takes it with unnatural equanimity. Every now and then his calm almost Zen-like behavior rubs Peter, and not in a good way. If he didn’t know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Michael is his sister’s mate, Peter would think the guy was up to something.

As for the other thing … yes, having a built-in lie detector naturally comes with the whole werewolf gig. It’s a neat gift, and usually one hundred percent reliable, _unless_ you meet someone who can outsmart you, lying through his, or her, teeth without giving away anything, not a twitch of an eye or a sudden spike in their heart rate, nothing.

It’s not so far-fetched. There are a lot of psychopaths out there, but Peter wisely keeps his mouth shut. No need to get into that kind of discussion right now.

“Stiles can’t be that bad considering how much Laura likes her already. You know how picky she is making new friends.” The ‘just like you’ is left unsaid.

Actually, it didn’t come as a surprise to him that his niece and the human girl hit it off right away. They quickly bonded over their mutual dislike of Peter’s manners, or rather their lack of. He would have gladly left them alone after Laura’s sudden appearance at the table, but she dug her claws into his thigh, effectively keeping him in place, forcing him stay until all was said and done. He has always admired Laura’s vicious streak, but not when she’s using it against him. One thing is for sure. He will repay her for that on the next full moon.

“As I said, I’ll try my best.” Peter repeats, less amicable than before, but Talia gets the message.

They are done talking.

Well, at least for now.

 

\+ + +

 

Half an hour later Peter is finally done chopping all the vegetables and fruits his sister laid out for him.

True, as werewolves they do prefer meat, but they eat a lot of green stuff too, especially Laura. Then again just because they are natural predators, doesn’t mean they are defined by their instincts.

Well, generally speaking. There are exceptions, of course.

Peter carelessly drops the cutting plate and the knife into the sink, wiping of his hands dry on his jeans instead of using one of the kitchen towel. The girls are back by now, helping their mother setting up the table in the backyard. The only one still missing is Derek. Why it would take someone more than forty-five minutes to get a bag of frozen ice cubes is still beyond him, but then again, it’s Derek. He rarely does anything by the book.

A few moments later Peter can hear two vehicles coming down the road. He goes outside, joining his sister, brother-in-law and his nieces in the yard, just in time to witness Derek pulling into the driveway, directly followed by a police car.

Peter smirks at the picture, but not for long.

As soon as Stiles gets out of the cruiser, the grin on Peter’s face is gone, replaced by a complete different expression. He is gaping at the girl, stunned speechless.

She is wearing a skirt. It’s not a mini, but still a short one, ending mid-thigh, showing off her long, well-shaped, tight-clad legs.

It’s a sight he is not prepared for. At all.

Frankly, going by the clothes Stiles usually wears – jeans and a lot of plaid – Peter was convinced that there wasn’t even one skirt or dress in her wardrobe. Not that he has given much thought about the contents of her closet, but obviously he was wrong. It’s a simple skirt, nothing frilly, and she is still wearing one of her numerous themed t-shirts and her favorite, worn sneakers, which makes the whole ensemble more casual than anything, but still … a skirt.

Thankfully, Peter is able to get a hold of himself before anyone notices his weird reaction. Not even Derek, who rushes past him, hauling two bags of ice into the house.

As the head of the household, and the Alpha, Talia steps forward first, greeting both the Sheriff and his daughter with a brief handshake and a warm smile. Michael follows her lead. Laura and Cora say hello to the Sheriff, but embrace Stiles, who seems to be a little uncomfortable with all the attention, but tries her best not to show it. Not having another choice Peter greets the Sheriff the same way as his sister, but refrains from touching Stiles. He only offers her a small smile and a nod. The girl doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seems to be glad about it.

After that they quickly relocate into the backyard. The Sheriff immediately offers to help out at the grill and naturally Michael happily agrees. The rest of them take their seats at the table.

Deaton shows up ten minutes later, with one of his patients in tow.

“Oh, look, it’s you, Peter,” Cora coos, throwing herself at the big dog. Well, she tries, but quickly realizes that her exuberant behavior is not appreciated, at all. It’s hard to tell if it’s the predator in her that makes the dog hide behind the veterinarian’s legs, or if it is something else. With a sigh of disappointment Cora sits down again.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring him along.” Deaton mumbles, offering Peter’s ten-year-old niece a small smile. “I just couldn’t leave him alone at the clinic.”

Cora nods in understanding, but it’s obvious that she is still sad. Peter whispers in her ear, that she has a point. The dog looks a lot like his wolf, with his thick, black fur and the blue eyes, but he still doesn’t appreciate being compared to a dog. It has the desired effect, making her giggle.

Suddenly Stiles gets up, surprising not just him, but all of the wolves and the Doc. “May I try?”

She sounds somewhat timid but also determined. When Deaton indicates his approval, she approaches the scared animal slowly, apprehensively, ready to pull back at a moment’s notice. She gets on her knees, not caring that her tights get dirty. Then she holds out her right hand, palm up, and waits.

The dog peeks out from behind Deaton, curiously sniffing the air. He is still wary, but apparently her scent helps putting him more at ease. It’s certainly enough for him to slowly but surely walk over to where Stiles is kneeling. She doesn’t move, just waits.

Nobody makes a sound. Everyone is watching the spectacle with bated breath, curious and entranced. Deaton holds the leash tight in his hands, prepared to pull the animal back if need be.

It’s not necessary, though. The dog stops right in front of Stiles, carefully sniffing her hand, before giving it a lick, and then a few more, just for good measure. Going by the rumbling noise he makes, he clearly likes the taste of her. Stiles laughs softly, taking his reaction as permission to pet him, which he seems to enjoy even more than licking her hand.

“He is a Siberian Husky.” It’s not a question but a statement. “They are very loyal and intelligent, and also very energetic and active, some say almost as temperamental as their wolf ancestors. Which makes sense, since they tend to howl rather than bark. They are also known for being quite the escape artists, and feel a powerful need to belong to a pack.”

“Correct,” Deaton remarks, surprise and awe layering his voice. And he is not the only one who is impressed by her vast knowledge about this canine breed. The only exception is the Sheriff.

“We had two of them in our K9 unit back in Chicago.” He explains. “By the time she was seven Stiles could name each breed and tell you everything about them.”

Stiles rolls her eyes at her father, but otherwise ignores him. Instead she addresses Deaton. “What happened to him?”

“I found him on the side of road 115. No name tag. No chip. He probably ran off from his owners, who, let’s put it this way, didn’t appreciate him very much.”

“He was tortured?” She sounds aghast by the sheer idea.

“Most likely.” Deaton grumbles, his tone of voice mirroring Stiles’ to a T.

“You poor thing.” Stiles whines, fully embracing the dog, mumbling into his fur, “Who could do something like this to you?”

“Only someone who has no appreciation for life.” Talia practically growls.

Stiles looks up, over her shoulder, frowning. Peter knows her confusion has nothing to do with the words but with the fact that Talia caught her question in the first place. The Alpha acts like nothing is wrong, like she didn’t just make a judge mistake, simply smiling at Stiles and the dog. With a wave of her hand she says, “Come on, let’s eat.”

“Nice save, sister.” Peter grumbles, just loud enough for her to hear, and the rest of the wolves, of course. Nobody reacts to his jibe, though.

Deaton takes a seat right next to Stiles, not having much of a choice, now that the Husky has imprinted himself on the human girl. “You know, if you are interested in veterinary medicine, I could use an assistant.”

“Really?” Stiles sounds both surprised and excited by the idea.

“Sure,” Deaton nods, amending, “If that’s okay with your father, of course.”

“I don’t mind, as long as your grades don’t suffer.” The Sheriff allows.

“Not gonna be a problem.” Stiles beams.

“Then it’s settled.” Deaton laughs. “Come by the clinic next week and we can work out the details.”

“Will do.” Stiles promises.

Peter doesn’t miss the meaningful look between his sister and the emissary.

He too approves of her.

_Great._

 

\+ + +

 

Surprisingly, lunch is quite enjoyable.

John Stilinski is a pretty decent guy, a little rough around the edges, but that’s to be expected, considering the position he holds, not to mention the recent loss he suffered. Unlike most adults, he doesn’t pester the children with questions about their school life or their future plans. A part of Peter wonders if that’s Stiles’ doing.

As expected, the Sheriff gets along with Michael famously. For one, they both have similar employments, what with Talia’s mate being part of the city council and Stiles’ father being the head of the town’s law enforcement, but more importantly they share the same interest in sports.

Peter hides his smile each and every time Stiles pushes the plate of vegetables closer to her dad. It’s endearing, but completely pointless. She might be in control of his diet at their home, but right here and now, sitting among other people, more importantly people she doesn’t know, she is clearly losing the battle. But it’s obvious that she cares deeply, about her father’s health and about the strange dog. Every now and then she feeds the Husky a piece of meat, scratching him behind the ears.

It’s endearing.

And annoying.

And a lot of other things.

 

\+ + +

 

Peter takes the first chance he gets to sneak away.

Nobody stops him, not even Talia.

Then again nobody really pays him any attention.

After helping to clear the table Laura and Cora drag Stiles upstairs for what they call some appropriate girl time. The look on Stiles’ face is priceless. She looks scared, terrified even, like she is about to get tortured or something. She even looks at Peter for help, but quickly averts her eyes when she realizes what she is doing. A part of him might have considered ‘saving’ her from her doom, but since she doesn’t ask, he keeps his mouth shut.

Deaton left shortly after lunch, claiming he has patients to attend to. It may be the truth; it’s hard to tell with the guy, which is only one reason why Peter hates his guts. Okay, that’s not exactly true. He doesn’t hate him. He just dislikes him. A lot. But that’s neither here nor there.

The Sheriff, Michael and Derek are busy watching a game on TV, constantly switching between cheering and booing. Talia is in the kitchen, taking care of the dishes and the leftovers.

Grabbing one of his books and a bottle of water, Peter makes his way straight towards his favorite place, a cluster of oak trees by the lake behind the house. The biggest one of them fits his back perfectly.

Unfortunately, his solitude is short-lived. He only manages to finish two chapters before he hears someone slowly approaching his hiding spot.

It’s easy to tell who it is by the sound of the heartbeat and the scent, even though he isn’t _that_ familiar with them yet. Of course, he is annoyed at first, but that sentiment doesn’t last very long. It’s obvious by the stubborn way she shuffles through the leaves, muttering under her breath the whole time, that she isn’t seeking company right now, probably least of all _his_. Her colorful vocabulary amuses Peter to no end.

Stiles stops by the shoreline, completely unaware of Peter’s presence even though he is sitting just a few feet away from her. Instead of calling out to her he keeps quiet, watching her very intently. His eyes roam over her body like a caress, zeroing in on her ass. And what a fine piece of ass it is. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a groan of appreciation, effectively announcing his presence to the human.

Startled, Stiles wheels around. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Are you lost?” Peter asks.

“No, I was just looking for …”

“A place to hide?” Peter finishes her sentences with a knowing smirk.

“Yes.” She admits, slightly embarrassed.

“Let me guess, from Cora and her but load of beauty products?” Peter assumes, dropping his gaze to her hands. “Pink not your color?”

“You think?” She snorts, rolling her eyes, wriggling her fingers.

“True, it’s not really your style.” Peter chuckles, surprising himself as much as her with his next words. “I doubt it will work but you can hide out here for a while if you want.”

“I don’t know …”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, grinning when she drops to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this progress. What do you think?


End file.
